


In Which a Dalish Clan Moves Into Skyhold

by raewise



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Infidelity, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Meeting the Parents, but mostly Bull/Lavellan centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7171925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raewise/pseuds/raewise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: Atheri Lavellan has to introduce her qunari boyfriend (who she engages in weird kinky sex stuff with on the regular) to her naive mother and an old woman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Clan Lavellan (starred the characters who appear in this story):  
> *Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel (f) - Keeper, mage  
> First Taelhen (m) - First to the Keeper, mage, Keeper’s son  
> *Hunter Atheri (Lady Inquisitor Atheri Lavellan, Her Worship, Herald of Andraste) (f)  
> *Halla Keeper Eloril (f) - Atheri’s mother  
> *Hunter Nelsas (m) - Atheri’s brother  
> *Master Miris (f) - Master of Craft, Atheri’s ex-lover  
> *Second Maren "Mary" (f) - Second to the Keeper, mage, former city elf (Wycome), Nelsas’s betrothed  
> Hahren Sorlasen (m) - clan storyteller
> 
> Warnings: Mature language, infidelity, PDA, sexual content (no actual smut, but it gets pretty close)

At the first glimpse of the halla’s pristine white horns, Atheri found herself flying down the stairs and towards the front gate. The halla startled, but only for a moment. They recognized her--even after all these years.

 _“Lethallin!"_ she shouted when she spotted young Nelsas, hair as wild and obsidian black as it had been when she’d left. She flung herself at him, and he caught her eagerly. Over his shoulder Atheri saw the Keeper, smiling with her whole face, as well as-- “Mamae!”

 _“Da’len,”_ Mamae said, grinning even as she sobbed. “It is so good to see you.”

Mamae approached, handing the reins of her halla to a young bare-faced woman. Her mother’s black hair was now streaked with white, her mouth and forehead lined with worry-wrinkles. At the kiss placed on the crest of her forehead, Atheri beamed. She felt pride swell in her chest--pride at the Inquisition seeing her beautiful family, at her clan being able to see years of work pay off in stone walls and loyal soldiers, at her own success and good health.

“There is _so_ much to tell you. Let me show you around first. I’ll help you get settled in.”

The Inquisitor led them to the stables, leaving the halla in Master Dennet’s eager care. The older man seemed positively giddy to work with such “magnificent beasts” and learn all he could from Mamae, the clan’s halla keeper.

Josephine came to greet the clan, with her sweet smiles and limited Elvish phrases. The Keeper seemed impressed enough with the ambassador’s display. Atheri walked beside Josephine as she gave a tour of Skyhold’s grounds, chatting softly with her family.

As they walked, Atheri was introduced the the bare-faced elf. She was from Wycome, an apostate who was eagerly training to be the Keeper’s Second. And she was engaged to Nelsas.

“Welcome to the clan, sister. My brother is a lucky man to charm such a beautiful woman.”

The woman, Maren, blushed prettily. “He’s told me much about you. He said you were the reason he wanted to be a hunter.”

Atheri grinned proudly at her brother, who blushed bright red at her attention. “You’ve become a full-fledged hunter? When I left for the Conclave you were still an initiate.”

“Nelsas killed a great bear--the first to do so for his initiation since you, _da’len,"_   the Keeper said.

Atheri wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Andruil guides your arrows, _lethallin._ ”

“My vallaslin was in tribute to you,” Nelsas said. “Falon’Din to your Dirthamen.”

Atheri’s eyes traced the creeping vines of beige ink against her brother’s deep brown cheeks and forehead. Her own vallaslin felt fresh on her face, just looking at him. She was reminded of the pain, of the delight in her duty to the clan and to the Creators. The sudden thought of prayer came to mind; it had been too long since she paid tribute to her gods.

“Your living arrangements are up to you, Keeper. I’ve arranged for the courtyard to be cleared for the aravels and tents if you wish to stay outside, but we have plenty of spare guestrooms--and we’re building on an extra wing that is yours if you’d want it.” Atheri led the group into the main hall, watching her clan’s eyes turn into saucers.

“This is grand, Atheri,” Mamae said, ears flicking anxiously. “I don’t know what to say…”

“There are so many people who’ve worked hard to restore Skyhold. I’m just a figurehead, really. Not even a particularly good one. I despise when people call me ‘Herald’ or ‘Your Worship.’ But I’m so, so grateful for the hard work everyone’s done, the good we’re doing.”

“You are a humble woman, _da’len._ ” The Keeper smiled approvingly.

Josephine pointed out the ancient elven architecture, the Dalish banners that Atheri had insisted upon. The stained glass windows behind the throne let in glittering green and yellow light. The clan fit snugly into her personal quarters, Maren fawning at the view from her balcony. Atheri almost extended an open invitation for her family to visit her quarters whenever they wished, then thought better of it. If Bull and her were getting up to their usual business, it wouldn’t do to have the poor, elderly Keeper walk in on it--she’d have a bleeding heart attack!

Josephine touched Atheri’s arm carefully, whispering, “We must greet the dignitaries from Nevarra, Inquisitor. I will have a servant show the clan around the facilities.”

“Oh, of course. If you would, could you have Master Miris brought to the Undercroft and introduced to Harritt and Dagna, please. She’s a brilliant Craftmaster; I believe she would be a valuable asset.”

Master Miris, a beautiful young elf with hair the colour of gold leaf and eyes like the frothy waters of the Storm Coast, perked up at her name. The first time she was being spoken to since the clan’s arrival. In truth, Atheri had been ignoring her presence on purpose. The weight of her stares made her shoulders ache, but Atheri wasn’t ready for the conversation they would need to have. They had never officially broken off their affair, still in love when Atheri left for the Conclave three years prior. And now Atheri was in a committed relationship with a qunari, someone the clan would no doubt disapprove of.

Atheri took in a deep breath and took the Keeper’s hands in hers, then Mamae’s. “I will be back shortly. If you need anything, simply ask. I’ve had all the arrangements made so you’ll be treated as our most esteemed guests. If _anyone_ disrespects you, I will make sure to have the shemlen put in the stocks until they learn some manners.”

Nelsas snickered into his fist. “We will, don’t worry.”

When Atheri made to follow Josephine, making her way down the stairs, she felt a hand grasp her elbow. “ _Vhenan_ , we must talk.”

Atheri turned to look at Miris, whose eyes twinkled gleefully. Her touch felt sweet as sugar, and she smelled just like wood and metal and fire. The Inquisitor glanced at Josephine, who looked on curiously. Did the ambassador know what _‘vhenan’_ meant?

“Later, Miris. I really do need to go now. I will see you in the Undercroft? Then, we may have words.”

Miris looked confused for a long moment, slender brows arched and lips taut. “I… Alright, _lethallan._ Later then.”

Atheri nodded politely, hands folded behind her, then turned her back on her former lover. She didn’t want to hurt her, but it felt inevitable. She should’ve sent a letter earlier, as soon as Iron Bull and her started their fling, or when it transformed into more than that. It was too late for that now, however. Atheri had dug her grave, now she had to lie in it.

The meeting was dull, as always. Cassandra had to hold her back when the visiting dignitaries gave some unkind criticism based on the Inquisition’s choice of leadership. “Not many nations will take your organization seriously if you’re led by an elf,” the man had said, his moustache overwaxed and beard oily. He didn’t address her directly, speaking instead to Josephine or Cassandra, who was there only because she was Nevarran and royal-blooded. That, at least, won the Inquisition some points with the noble.

Afterwords Atheri pondered escaping the inevitable meeting with Miris by hiding away in the library or tavern, but she knew someone would eventually find her. Breathing deeply, Atheri examined her reflection for a moment. Skin the colour of cinnamon, vallaslin emerald green, hair raven black. She was a lovely mixture of colours on a heart-shaped face, so much like her father. Before he’d died he was a hunter. Mamae met him during the _arlathvhen_ ; he was a Dalish from Rivain. Mamae’s parents had been wildlings from Antiva, though Mamae had been with Clan Lavellan all her life. When she was young Atheri used to sit on her father’s shoulders and watch as Mamae cared for the halla, or help him re-string his bow.

When Nelsas was born, their father’s death not long after, Atheri was forced to become strong--for her mother and baby brother and the good of the clan. Back in those days Atheri spent long hours training, learning how to strike at opponents larger than herself, how to stick a dagger where armour didn’t protect, how to keep her blades sharp and mind sharper. Sometimes she found herself reverting back to that, a cold and calculated weapon, until one of her friends brought back her light and kindness. It was a struggle sometimes to be herself.

Her eyes looked back at her, ringed with black underneath her makeup. She looked older than she had three years ago, all of Thedas watching for her next move. As she watched her ears slump, she felt her resolve hardened. She was Hunter Atheri Lavellan! Leader of the Inquisition, Andraste’s Herald, and, as the Chargers had taken to calling her when they thought she wasn’t listening, “Tamer of the Bull.” She could handle breaking it off with an old lover.

Miris was carving wood when Atheri walked in, humming old hymns to herself. Her hair was loose around her face, sweat pooling against her skin, making her thin tunic stick to her torso. Atheri swallowed thickly as the elf looked up with glittering, round eyes.

“Theri, I was wondering what had kept you. Sit, sit!” She pulled out a stool for her, and Atheri sat primly, feeling weary. Miris rushed to show what she’d been working on. It was the beginning of a dagger grip, already decorated with intricate leafy designs, what Miris was known for. “For you. A gift.”

Atheri couldn’t touch it, feeling sick to her stomach. Miris watched for a moment, then her hands dropped to her lap, grip loose on the wood.

“What’s wrong, _vhenan’ara_? You look unwell.”

Miris made to touch her, but Atheri found herself moving away from those familiar fingers. “Please. I need to speak to you frankly for a moment, Miris.”

“Please do, love.”

“Don’t call me that. I can’t… it’s been so long, Miris. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“But I’m here now, and we can be together again. Like we used to.”

Atheri saw scenes of honey-sweet lips on her own in the cool rain, her back pressed against tree bark as Miris dragged her nails down her hips, sand and sea salt making their hair stiff as they pressed together on the beach. Shivering, she shook her head.

“I’m sorry I didn’t send you a letter. Three years… You must have been so worried. You need to know how sorry I am, how much I loved you. _Lethallan._ ”

A crease formed between the blonde’s eyebrows.

“You’ll be angry, but please don’t hate me. I couldn’t stand it. There’s someone--”

“Marry me.”

Atheri’s heart might’ve dropped onto the ground in front of her and she wouldn’t have noticed. “I’m--I’m sorry?”

“Whatever you’re going to tell me? It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing, _nothing,_ you could tell me that would make me not love you.”

“I cheated on you, and I’ve been in a serious relationship with another for over a year.”

“...Except that, apparently.”

Silence made the air tense around the two of them. For the first time since she entered the Undercroft, she was aware of Dagna and Harritt’s blatantly interested stares.

“Well,” Miris said quietly, clearing her throat, “what are they like? My… _replacement_?”

“He didn’t _replace_ you, _lethallan._ I love him for _him_. Mythal knows you couldn’t be more different. He’s loud, a good leader. He is a powerful warrior, a force of nature. He has a good smile, and when he laughs his whole body shakes. Like the happiness is too much to hold in his body, and it’s waiting to burst out. And he has great stories; I could listen to him talk for hours and he wouldn’t run out of things to say.”

“You love him wholly,” Miris commented, the anger that had flared in her big eyes gone. “I can’t hate you. I still love you, but it has been three years. I thought distance made the heart grow fonder, had expected to see you again and burst with joy. Obviously, my body is still in one piece. It will take time, but if you would have me I would like to be friends again.” Miris touched the back of her hand, creamy white skin against deep brown. “And I’d like to meet the man, see if he’s good enough for _ma da’mi._ ”

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Atheri grumbled, but a smile bloomed on her face. “I truly am sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Perhaps, but I’m glad for you. He seems like a good man. Have you told the rest of the clan?”

Atheri groaned thinking about it. What would they think of him? A qunari mercenary, one who openly spoke of his previous spywork, who lusted over dragon blood, who could drink an army under the table (and on one occasion, he did just that). If the clan didn’t approve, Atheri didn’t know what she would do. She loved Iron Bull, so much it sometimes hurt, but her clan was her lifeblood. Everything she had ever done was for them, their safety and honour.

What was more important to her: family, or her heart?

“I don’t know how to tell them. I’m worried they won’t approve.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. The clan wants for you to be happy. That’s why we’re here, we want to see you again, to see how you’ve grown as a woman and as a leader. We want to be proud of you, an elf leading a human organization. An elf surrounded by Andrastians who openly dismisses religious claims, who wears her vallaslin openly, who fights with Dalish techniques, and speaks Elvish at important gatherings.” Miris smiled, teeth like a row of pearls. “Whoever this man is…” Miris paused, thinking. “Would you be more comfortable if I brought it up? I wouldn’t tell the whole story, but if I informed your family and the Keeper that you’re seeing someone new, and that he’s a good man?”

Atheri felt the anxiety wash off her back. “Yes, yes. That sounds… I would be grateful. I should go and speak with him now. I’ll bring him to the clan when everyone is settled. I don’t think I ever told him you all were coming.”

“You are as forgetful as ever, _lethallan._ ” Miris chirped with laughter, hiding her smile behind her pretty hands.

“Goodbye, my friend. I’ll see you soon.” Atheri stood, hand hovering over Miris’s shoulder for a moment before she brushed a lock of hair away from her neck, letting her fingertips graze the other woman’s throat.

Walking away stiffly, Atheri wondered if Iron Bull would even _want_ to meet her family.

\--

She found him in the tavern, drinking around a table with the Chargers, Varric, and Sera. She walked up behind him, silent. Krem made eye contact over his boss’s shoulder, but she held a finger to her lips and he smiled.

Keeping her footing measured, Atheri got close enough to feel the heat coming off of his body. She took a moment for herself to admire the strong width of his shoulders, the plumpness of his biceps. Iron Bull could likely snap her in half like a twig if he wanted to, but unless she indicated she wanted otherwise he was as gentle as a florist handling daisy petals.

For a moment Atheri appreciated the “de-flowering” metaphor, before she launched herself around her partner’s beefy shoulders, crawling up so she was clinging to his wide horns. She felt his whole body jolt, and held on tight enough her palms burned, but he threw his head forwards, sending her sailing right into his lap.

He blinked down at her, eye reflecting the warm lighting of the tavern, before he barked laughter, setting off the whole table. Atheri found herself wrapped up in his arms, being squeezed lightly as his body convulsed. Varric slapped a hand on the table, and Sera leaned heavily against Grim’s side, who looked on with his eyebrows drawn and mouth even.

“You’re in a playful mood tonight, _kadan?”_ His voice was a growl, teeth flashing. He didn’t bother to lower his voice, but Atheri shivered like it had been whispered against her sensitive ear.

“Ugh, gross!” Sera exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at the display. “As much as I’d like to see Miss Elfy in the buff, I’d rather be able to keep my ale down, thanks.”

“I agree,” said Krem, though he was smiling contently into his booze. “Boss, I’ve already walked in on some things I’ll never be able to unsee. Please, can we protect what little innocence my virgin eyes have left?”

“Virgin?” Dalish squawked. “If you’re a virgin, then I’m an apostate!”

Krem looked at the woman flatly, visibly preparing himself for a verbal brawl. Before he could start telling off his comrade, Atheri interrupted with a, “Bull? I have something I need to talk to you about.” The table stared at them. “Privately.”

“Watch,” Sera muttered to an unresponsive Grim, “she’s pregnant. I’ll bet you a sovereign she has some unholy horned elf abomination growing inside her.”

Iron Bull swallowed the last of his drink, standing without letting go of her. Throwing her over his shoulder and patting her ass, Iron Bull said his farewells. “Well, duty calls. Varric? You can get my tab, yeah?”

Varric scoffed. “Can I? Yes. Will I? Andraste’s flaming ass, no. Besides, Buttercup and I were going to go see if we could outshoot the Dalish clan that came up today.” Atheri could feel his eyes, even if she couldn’t see him. “Heard your brother’s a good shot, Atheri.”

Iron Bull stilled. “Your brother?”

“That’s what I need to talk to you about, _vhenan._ Can we go do that now? Before I need to introduce you?”

When he turned quickly around in a quick walk out the tavern door, Atheri was forced to look at the table’s laughing faces. Briefly the Inquisitor considered running away from this conversation, but now with her clan here, nowhere in Skyhold was safe. Where was she supposed to hide from her responsibilities now?

Walking through the courtyard, not many people looked at the odd couple. The servants and recruits had grown used to the qunari mercenary hauling around the Herald like she was cargo. Atheri thanked the Creators the clan wasn’t around. This would be the opposite of a good first impression.

Finally, when they had passed the giggling nobles in the main hall, Iron Bull put her down, letting her walk beside him up into her bedchamber. His strides were longer than hers, but he walked slow enough she didn’t have to rush to keep up. Bull was thoughtful in little ways like that.

“What’s this about a brother?” he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“His name is Nelsas. This is his twentieth year.” Atheri fiddled with a buckle on her coat. “My clan has come to stay at Skyhold.”

“What about Wycome?”

“It was decided that it was more important for the entire clan to be together again, and safe, then to continue being wandering nomads. They would like to meet you.”

Iron Bull stared for a moment, disbelieving. “They know? About us? I mean--you told your family about me?”

“They know now. My friend Miris just found out I have a lover, and I allowed her to inform the clan. It was never relevant before. In our letters the Keeper and I talked about politics and health. Our personal lives were unimportant compared to everything that was happening, with the Inquisition and Wycome.”

Bull leaned forward. “What… customs should I know? I know a little Elvish--”

“You know Elvish?” Atheri interrupted.

“I’ve had Dalish teach me a bit. I know it’s important to you. And I'd like to learn more about your culture, especially since you've done so much to learn about mine.” If it was even possible, Iron Bull managed to look bashful. Atheri’s heart grew with affection, her body tingling pleasantly.

“That's the _kindest_ thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, _vhenan._ ” She touched the side of his face, tracing stubble with her fingertips. He pressed his mouth against her palm, wrapping his hand around her dainty wrist. “You don't need to act like anything you aren't. I want them to meet the Iron Bull, not a faux Dalish stand-in.”

“I love you,” Bull said, pulling her forwards by the waist so she stood between his thighs. “ _Kadan,_ ” he whispered against her jugular, lightly biting.

Atheri brought her hands up so she was cradling his face, glancing brushstrokes over his cheekbones. She tweaked an ear, and he huffed against her throat.

He was a warm pillar against her, smelling of leather and sweat. His hands were a familiar weight against the small of her back, pulling her forwards so they couldn’t possibly be any closer unless he was inside of her.

Their mouths met wetly, Bull’s tongue immediately meeting hers. She could taste the spice from his ale. Gripping his horns, Atheri pushed her weight forwards so he tipped backwards, crawling on top of him. The callused pads of his fingers traced the lapel of her coat, tickling the wispy hairs on the back of her neck.

“I want you to fuck me,” she muttered against his ear as she nipped at it. “You make me so happy. Let me make you feel good. Please.” She grinded down against him, licking at his chest and neck. Iron Bull tangled one hand in her hair, the other rough on her hip. He pushed her down against him, his erection obvious even through their layers of clothes.

She ripped off her coat, pulling her tunic over her head. Bull touched the dragon’s tooth hanging against her sternum, moaning. He bit the flesh of her breast, taking her brown nipple between his teeth. Gasping, Atheri let him lift her up, let him throw her onto the bed and climb on top of her, his bulk heavy against her willowy frame. She laughed as he groped her ass, a sensitive area.

She was wrapping her legs around his hips when someone knocked softly on the door.

“Ignore it,” she said as Iron Bull shoved his hand down the front of her trousers. “They’ll leave soon enough.

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

Closing her eyes so she would be wrapped in the sensation of Bull rubbing her with his rough, thick fingers, Atheri groaned into his shoulder.

“No, _kadan._ Open your eyes and look at me, or you’ll get nothing. Be a good girl for me, can you do that?”

 _“Yes!_ I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology. Touch yourself.”

Another knock on the door. Atheri tried to ignore it, but it persisted. Everyone in Skyhold knew that if she didn’t answer her door she was either out, or Bull was in ( _another excellent euphemism,_ she celebrated).

“Dread Wolf take them!” she snarled under her breath. “A moment, _vhenan._ I’ll get rid of them.”

Iron Bull sighed but took a seat against the bed’s headboard, cupping himself. His cocky grin didn’t slide from his lips. “Take your time. I’ll be here, waiting eagerly for your return.”

Atheri hurriedly put on her coat again, tying her trousers up so they wouldn’t fall off. She took long, impatient strides towards the stairs and jumped down them two at a time. Wrenching the door open, her scowl dropped off her face when she saw who it was.

“Nelsas, what do you need?” she asked, flustered now at her debauched state. She stepped out of her room, shutting the door behind her. A raven stood on the railing beside her, grooming its feathers.

“The Keeper asked me to deliver a message to you. We’re eating dinner out in the courtyard, by the stables, and she wants you to bring your new man.” Nelsas flashed a cheeky smile, eyes wicked.

“Isn’t it a bit soon for him to be meeting you all? You just learned about him--”

“Theri, _c’mon_. It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other, and I want to know who you decided was better suited to you than Miris. I thought you two were going to get married? I even brought up the idea of a double wedding with Mary, but she wants a more traditional ceremony. She’s a devout Andrastian, can you believe that? The Keeper says it’s alright, though. She doesn’t have to share all of our customs to be blood. What was I talking about?”

“Miris.”

“Oh, yes! Tell me about your man. Is he Dalish, or is he a city elf like Mary?”

“He isn’t an elf, _lethallin._ ” Atheri twitched nervously.

Nelsas’s ears perked up interestedly, eyebrows disappearing up into his mop of dark hair. “A shemlen? Well, that’s alright, too. You’re the one who’ll need to break the news to Mamae and the Keeper, though--”

“He isn’t human, either.”

Quiet between the two of them, confusion taking hold of Nelsas’s features. _“Dwarf?”_

She sighed, feeling her ears droop. She patted down her coat, fixing a button that was done up incorrectly. “Nelsas,” she breathed, heart pounding. “I have something to tell you.”

“You’re worrying me, Theri.”

“I know, I know. This is difficult for me to admit but--”

The bedroom door behind her swung open, and Bull poked his big horns through. He glanced at Atheri softly, but stiffened when he saw her younger brother. The resemblance was obvious, the same nose and skin tone and black hair. Nelsas had their father’s eyes, charcoal black, while Atheri had eyes like Mamae. And she was much taller than Nelsas, his build stockier comparatively. But still, this was obviously the brother Iron Bull had yet to meet.

“Oh, _Theri…”_ Nelsas looked between the two of them, at Atheri’s blush and Bull’s wooden posture. Her brother rolled back his shoulders, and put on a hesitant smile. He reach forwards to take Bull’s hands in his. “I am Hunter Nelsas, of Clan Lavellan. Atheri’s brother. You are her… partner?”

Bull relaxed, shoulders deflating a fraction. “The Iron Bull. With the article in the front. _Andaran atish’an.”_ His pronunciation was clumsy, but Atheri had never felt more proud.

Nelsas grinned toothily, the same smile he’d had when the two of them were children running on cool sand with no boots on, or climbing great oak trees. “You know Elvish?”

“A little.” Iron Bull told Nelsas about Dalish, and when Nelsas curiously inquired about the rest of the Chargers, he went off about their adventures. The three of them ended up out on the balcony, overlooking Skyhold. From above Atheri could see the aravels and shimmering white halla grazing in the courtyard.

“I should go,” Nelsas eventually said, seeming jovial. He took Bull’s hands again, a friendly gesture. “Please come dine with us for supper. The rest of the clan will love you, I know it, _lethallin._ ” He pressed a kiss to Atheri’s cheek. “Theri. Later? Promise you’ll bring him.”

“Yes, of course. I will see you at dinner.”

Nelsas left with a spring in his step, humming under his breath. When the door closed behind him Atheri breathed out a sigh of relief. That wasn’t so bad. Now, she would just have to do the same thing on a larger scale. Mamae would be worried, but Mamae was always worried about Atheri’s safety, so that wasn’t a concern. The Keeper would likely be civil no matter what her opinion on Iron Bull was. Miris… probably wouldn’t like him, but that couldn’t be helped. Atheri just hoped he would grow on the Craftmaster, like he had on her.

“He’s a good kid,” Bull said as he leaned against the railing. “He’s like a mabari puppy.”

“What am I like, then?” she asked, genuinely interested.

“A cat. Or a bird. Oh! You’re a fennec. Small, agile, skittish.”

“I’m not skittish!”

“Twitchy, then. You’re always fiddling with something. You can’t sit still. Nelsas is a mabari because he’s loyal, playful, sociable.”

“Are these the kinds of things you think about?”

Bull shrugged, reaching out to touch a lock of loose hair against her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “I have a lot of free time.”

“I envy you, love. I can’t swing a dead cat without hitting another problem that needs solving.” She embraced him, burying her head in his chest.

“Keep nuzzling my breasts like that and I’ll start getting ideas,” Bull teased, stroking her hair. Atheri giggled against his sternum. “You should hire an assistant. Vice Inquisitor.”

“Have any recommendations?”

“Dorian would be good, if a bit biased towards Tevinter. But he has your best interests at heart. Varric probably has too much on his plate already. Vivienne… has her own agenda, as politically and socially savvy as she is. Sera… _no._ ” Bull scratched his chin in thought. “Cole. Perfect.”

“Are you joking?”

“No! He’s the best candidate. Unbiased, you agree on almost everything. Nobody remembers him, so you could send him on covert missions. The Inquisitor’s ghostly assistant.” He looked very happy with himself.

Atheri just shook her head at him. “We should wash up for dinner.”

“You know what we _could_ do? String you up by your ankles and see how long it takes until your pussy goes numb from the blood rushing to your head.”

“No time for that, but I’ll let you tie me to the bedposts if you promise you’ll be quick.”

“I won’t make a promise I can’t keep, but I’ll do my best, _kadan_.”

“Alright, then. Take me, loverboy.” Chuckling, he threw her back onto the bed and wiped the cheeky grin off her face.

\--

Atheri’s nerves were on fire the entire trip out into the courtyard. Bull put his hand between her shoulderblades, but it didn’t help much. Rationally, Atheri knew the absolute worst thing that could happen was the Keeper might frown a little bit, or Miris might ignore her for some time, but it felt more major than that. This was who she was now, and this was the first time the clan would see this side of her new life. This was an official meeting of Hunter Atheri and Inquisitor Atheri. This was the joining moment.

The clan blatantly stared as they passed. Even the halla looked at the couple curiously. The clan’s Storyteller had a wild glint in his eyes, probably already scripting out a new tale to tell the next generation. The day the Inquisitor brought home a horned giant.

Miris had wood chips stuck in her hair, working on the same dagger grip she had shown her earlier. (Atheri felt like Blackwall would finally have someone to chat to while he whittled.)

“Theri,” Miris said quietly, looking up at Iron Bull through her hair. Unless one knew him, it was impossible to tell that the qunari was nervous, but Atheri noticed the way his lips spasmed. “This is him? Your new lover?”

Atheri cleared her throat, aware of Mamae approaching from the stables. “Yes. This is my… beloved?” After all this time the two of them still couldn’t settle on a term for their relationship. Usually they stuck with partner, but that made them seem too platonic. Lover made her stomach churn, and beloved was too sickly sweet for the filthy things they’d done together.

“It is good to meet you,” Bull said, looking mildly uncomfortable. Atheri was aware of the way Miris was looking at her, longing still present in that grey gaze. If Atheri perceived such a minor gesture, the former Ben-Hassrath at her side certainly did.

“And you.” Miris moved out of the way of the approaching Keeper, cleaning off the stool she’d been sitting in for the older woman to rest on.

“Keeper, this is Iron Bull. _Emma lath.”_ She gestured towards the white-haired elf in front of them, leaning against her staff. “Bull, this is Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel.”

A tense moment of silence, the Keeper’s wise eyes scanning Iron Bull’s open face. He bowed his head respectfully, and her frown subsided. “Welcome to the clan, _dorf falon._ ”

Atheri didn’t think she could smile any wider. Mamae sidled up to her, gawking up at the mercenary. “And this is my mother. Halla Keeper Eloril.”

“Wow!” Mamae warbled. “You are certainly _not_ what I was expecting!”

Iron Bull chuckled, a deep good-natured rumble Atheri felt in her toes. “I imagine Atheri didn’t fully explain the situation. I was told you were expecting someone a foot shorter, sans horns.”

“And what a pair of horns they are! I haven’t met many qunari, but those certainly take the cake.”

“Thank you?” Bull shot Atheri a small, amused look. She shrugged. “It is nice to meet the woman who raised my _kadan_ \--Atheri, I mean. I can see where she got her charm and good looks.”

Mamae’s face went hot red, and she flapped a hand at him. “Oh, dear. Stop, you’re making an old woman blush.”

‘Stop,’ in Mamae meant ‘Please, go on.’ Thankfully, Bull seemed to pick up on this.

“You have her eyes, Atheri. I’ve always thought they were beautiful, the colour of Par Vollen’s deepest jungles.” Atheri had to keep from rolling her eyes. Mamae was the kind of person won over by sweet words and sweeter smiles. The two of them would get along fine.

 _“Da’len,”_ the Keeper said, watching the exchange. “A moment?”

“Of course.” Atheri touched Bull’s hand briefly before slipping away. The Keeper led her to the inside of the barn. Blackwall wasn’t there, and Master Dennett was too busy fawning over the halla to pay attention to them.

“Yes, Keeper? What… do you think?”

The Keeper touched her cheek, fingers old and warm. She smelled like sea salt and rain, and Atheri yearned for the Free Marches. Home. “Does he make you happy, _da’len?”_

“Yes! _So_ happy, Keeper. He’s kind and strong, and has never hurt me.” That wasn’t exactly true, but her clan didn’t need to know the intimate details of her sex life. It was always consensual pain, besides.

“You are a grown woman, Atheri, and we cannot rightfully influence the _Inquisitor’s_ choice in love. Not that I would try. He looks at you with respect and admiration. If he treats you well, I find no reason why you two should not be together.”

“Then…”

“You have my blessing.”

Atheri’s face split open with a wide smile, her eyes glittering like serpentstone. “Thank you, _hahren._ ” She pulled the old woman into a tight embrace, feathered pauldrons tickling her nose. The Keeper laughed breathily and rubbed large circles into her back.

“I’m not worried about him hurting you, Atheri. I know you can take care of yourself. I just want you to be sure this is what you want. Miris wanted so badly to be with you again.” The Keeper sighed. “But she will move on. Find a new love, practice her craft. Hopefully the both of you will be happy, whatever paths you choose.”

“I want that so badly. For her to be happy.”

“I know, _lethallan._ You are a good woman.”

Atheri quietly thanked her, wiping away tears she just noticed making tracks down her cheeks. “I need to make sure Bull isn’t terrorizing Mamae.”

The Keeper pressed her forehead against Atheri’s, love in her gaze. “Go then.”

The Inquisitor was very aware of the Keeper’s gaze on her back, but it felt like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

\--

Later, when Atheri was just slipping off into sleep, she felt Bull run his fingers down her spine, feeling every vertebrae. Her cheek was against his shoulder, legs splayed out on either side of his waist. He tugged on the braid on the top of her head, thick fingers scratching her scalp. She felt her throat begin to vibrate, a purr tickling her vocal chords.

He let out a huff of laughter, mouth barely a butterfly landing on her forehead. Moments like these, quiet moments with silence full of affection and softness, were part of the reason Atheri was in love with the man. He was loud and brash and bloodthirsty, but he had a gentleness to him that made her feel safe in his arms.

“I like your family,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

“I’m glad. I think they like you, too.”

He hummed. “I’ve never had a family before, you know. The Chargers are the closest thing, I think. I understand what all the fuss is about now.”

She propped herself up on her elbows, hovering above him. Atheri skimmed her fingers across his cheek, her purring intensifying when he leaned into her touch. Dragging her index finger down the bridge of his nose, tracing his lip. She kissed his eyelid, and the eyepatch. His hands landed on her lower back, just resting. Sighing, Atheri pressed her ear to his chest, letting his heartbeat lull her towards sleep’s cliffedge. When his hand came back up to her head, petting her hair and her exposed ear, Atheri let herself fall.

\--

In the darkness of the Herald’s bedroom, Iron Bull watched her slowly rising chest. Atheri had a large presence, the aura of someone incredibly significant, and yet she was so _small_. He could lift her with ease, wrap his hand around her bony wrists. The swell of her breast was subtle, not quite what he was used to.

He wouldn’t change anything about her, not her kindness or vigour, not her intellect or strategy, not her absent-mindedness or blunt nature. Meeting her clan gave him more things to appreciate about her. Seeing where someone came from, where they _really_ came from, revealed a worn path one hadn’t noticed before. He could see her in the forest, crouched and staring down a wolf, could see her praying to her gods as tattoos were etched into her face. He saw her as the world exploded around her and she became something more than an elf--in the world’s mind, at least. The people of her clan obviously already thought she was worth more than they could physically pay.

Iron Bull hadn’t known her before the Anchor, but he knew the woman he saw for the first time on the beaches of the Storm Coast, black hair slick and wet and coming loose from an intricate braid. Painted emerald lips stark against her dark face. Dancing across the battlefield with knives sharper than dragon’s teeth, she had spoken to him with a hard-set brow. There had been Tevinter blood splattered across her cheek, and he had yearned to wipe it away with his thumb. Instead, he watched the rain wash it down her neck and away from view, watched the sea salt collect in her hair through the light fog.

He joined her Inquisition, joined the supposedly holy woman (who proclaimed her unholiness every opportunity she got). In that moment he hadn’t believed in Andraste or the Maker or her pantheon, but he _had_ believed in her.

And, he mused with affection in his gaze, had he not been justly rewarded for that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> (Ma) vhenan: “(my) heart”  
> Vhenan’ara: “heart’s desire,” a pet name  
> Ma da’mi: “my little blade,” a pet name  
> Emma lath: “my love”  
> Hahren: “elder,” a term of respect  
> Da’len: “little one/child”  
> Andaran atish’an: “enter this place in peace,” a formal greeting  
> Dorf falon: “grey friend,” a friendly term I’m using for qunari  
> Arlathvhen: meeting of the Dalish clans
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you spot any mistakes, please point them out!
> 
>  
> 
> [Buy me a coffee!](http://ko-fi.com/I3I59IAV)


	2. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sera meets a pretty girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Sera/OC but also implied one-sided Sera/Dagna

Sera was bored. She’d already pestered Blackwall for as long as he’d put up with. (And it wasn’t nearly as fun since the elves moved in next to him, looking ready to jump her with religious and cultural discussions just because she had pointy ears like them. Annoying.) She’d pranked everyone she was willing to get near--so creepy Cole and the terrifying Iron Lady were both out. Usually she’d go about practicing her shooting, but elves had infested the training grounds like rats, and she’d need to be right pissed before she willingly had a conversation with Inquisitor Jr. again.

So she went to the Underforge to bother Dagna. It was always a challenge to get on the lady dwarf’s nerves, took hours of persistent questioning and touching things she wasn’t supposed to. But it was worth it to see the cute pouty lips and puffed cheeks and--

Yeah, anyways.

“Dagna, dear! I’m _booooored!_ ” She threw her head back, stretching her vowels as much as possible. Harritt was no Dagna, but seeing him twitch was fun too, and loud noises really set the old bastard off. Sera could be _very_ loud.

“She’s out,” an unfamiliar voice responded, soft as a breeze through windchimes. Sera stared. It was an elfy elf, blonde and pretty. Face decorated with curly red tattoos around big, expressive eyes. She wore a plain blouse, unlaced in the front to show off impressive cleavage. The elf shone with glittering beads of sweat, tanned shoulders exposed.

Maker’s balls, Sera was in love.

“Would you like to keep me company while you wait?” the elf asked with her smooth Free Marches accent. Sera was very aware she was leering,  but she couldn’t help but gawp. It wasn’t every day an otherworldly being manifested itself in the form of an ethereal woman.

“Are you alright?” the spirit asked (because what else could she possibly be?), brows furrowed adorably.

“Ahem. Yeah. Fine. What are you working on?” She approached cautiously, not willing to spook this creature.

“Stringing a bow. Atheri has me working the forge with Master Harritt, but I’ve mostly been doing detail work.”

The bow was the closest thing to art Sera had ever appreciated, beautifully curved and made of a glossy metal Sera didn’t recognize.

“It’s ironbark,” the pretty elf answered the unspoken question. “Traditional Dalish material. It’s strong and flexible. I’m still learning how to use more common metals, like iron and obsidian, but that’s all part of the fun, I think.” Using nimble fingers, the woman tied the bowstring off into a neat knot. “I’m Miris.”

“Sera.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sera. You’re an archer?” She motioned to the bow strapped to her back.

“Yeah. Shite, before you Dalish came by I was the best around. I’m part of the Inner Circle ‘n’ everything.”

“You said you _were_ the best archer. Not anymore?”

“Well, if I’m gonna be honest, I’m probably still top dog, but I didn’t wanna offend you none. Hey, you’re the lady Inquisi-tits was rolling around with before everything exploded? Bull mentioned you.”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my friend! Good guy. _Funny._ He keeps trying to talk me into this new battle maneuver where he throws me at the shiteheads we’re fighting. See, I do this thing where I set myself on fire, right?”

“What!? Did you just say--”

“Yeah, yeah. Sweet lips, keep up, yeah?” Sera grinned wolfishly at the blush that spread across the Craftmaster’s face.

“How do you _survive?"_

“ _Shh!_ Secrets! Wouldn’t even tell Miss Pissed about that--and she’s bloody scary!” Sera shivered, remembering Cassandra’s glower, the clench of her gauntlets, and how good her cheekbones looked at that moment. Sera had wanted to lick her, but she rather needed her tongue for future conquests so she resisted the urge.

“Anyway, so Bull says he’s gonna throw me like a trebuchet, right? Like I’m just a big boulder or something, doused in booze and lit aflame. But I say ‘No, I’ll get one big buggering wedgie if you do that!’ and he laughs, and Miss Elfy laughs, and I’m laughing. Lady Vivienne did _not_ laugh!”

Sera giggled madly, squirming proudly as Miris chuckled.

Miris stood, looking over the finished bow. She ran her fingers down the arch, over decorative notches on the side. Then, she looked up coquettishly at Sera.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the bow against Sera’s chest, “this is for you. A gift.” The way her arms were positioned pushed her round breasts tightly together, giving Sera quite the view.

_Don’t stare at her tits don’t stare at her tits don’t stare at her--_

“Maker, but you have some nice tits!”

_Shite._

Miris blinked. Sera blinked. Then, laughter. Miris covered her red face with her hands, her eyes (they were grey, Sera noticed from how close she now was) shimmering with amusement.

“Flatterer.”

Sera grinned. “I seem to be cured of my boredom, pretty girl. Tell Dagna I stopped by, yeah? Tell her I touched something, but you don’t know what it was. That’ll drive her up the wall!”

“Alright, Sera. Will I see you again soon? I quite enjoyed chatting with you.”

Miris’s pink lips looked very inviting, so Sera reached out to prod her cupid’s bow with her thumb. A sneaky tongue darted out to lick at her. Sera grinned. “Definitely, honey tongue.”

Miris waved kindly as she left, Sera with a new bow in hand and a fluttery feeling in her gut. This was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Everyone knew when you licked something, it was yours forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how I did! I'm not super confident in my portrayal of Sera, so constructive criticism is very very welcome.
> 
>  
> 
> [Buy me a coffee!](http://ko-fi.com/I3I59IAV)


End file.
